


in my feelings

by carissima



Series: wish universe [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Denial, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Polyamory, Threesome, Toronto Maple Leafs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 17:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16000136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: Auston has a problem.Or two problems, probably.





	in my feelings

**Author's Note:**

> thanks as always to bee for the super quick beta! and v for helping me figure out everyone's wishes ;)

Auston has a problem. He’s used to problems, or challenges, as his mom likes to call them. He can picture her narrowing her eyes at him, her hands on her hips, silently encouraging him to figure out a solution.

Anyway, he’s never had a problem quite like this before. Moving to Switzerland was easy. Handling the pressure of Toronto’s hockey media is a piece of cake. Making his debut in the NH-freaking-L was vaguely nerve-wracking but the four goals he’d scored had tempered the team’s defeat, somewhat.

Slotting into an easy, instant friendship with Mitch was possibly the simplest thing he’s ever managed to do in his life. Mitch is cooler than he seems, open and overly friendly in a way that Auston appreciates, even if it’s the complete opposite of how Auston likes to be. Mitch pushes into Auston’s space, makes him laugh even when he doesn’t plan to, and generally shoves himself in the most gentlest way into Auston’s life.

It’s hardly Auston’s fault if he falls easily and almost helplessly into a serious crush on his teammate.

That’s not his problem though.

His problem is a 6’4 Danish goalie with gentle eyes and big hands.

The thing is, Auston thinks as he sits in the locker room and watches everyone avoiding Freddie’s eyes, like he’s damaged or something. Like knowing his wish changes any damn thing about him. The thing is he’s kind of in love with Freddie and he doesn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

That’s his problem.

He waits until there’s only a few of them still in the room before he steps over to Freddie’s stall and ignores the tension in Freddie’s shoulders, the way he’s somehow curled his big body into himself, the laser stare he’s got fixed onto the floor. He puts his hand on Freddie’s shoulder, feels nothing but padding and yet Freddie sags just a little.

The door closes behind Zach, leaving the two of them in a weird tableau, Auston half bent down with no idea what to say. Except then Freddie looks up at him, his eyes clear and focused.

“Fuck them,” is what Auston says, because what the fuck does he know about being betrayed and having the whole world know something as goddamn private as a wish. What he does know is how to fight. Not on the ice with dropped gloves and a wicked left hook. He knows what it feels like to have people stare, wonder how a Mexican kid from Arizona could possibly be as awesome as he is on the ice. He knows what it feels like to be pushed around and ignored, what if feels like to have words thrown at him like they’re meant to hurt.

“Fuck all of them,” he says again, relaxing just a little when Freddie’s mouth twitches like he wants to smile. “Seriously, Fred. Fuck ‘em.”

“Yeah?” Freddie blows out a long breath and he stands, forcing Auston to look up at him. There’s still a tightness around his eyes but he looks solid again, taking up too much space and yet Auston wouldn’t mind if he took up a little more.

“The team doesn’t give a fuck,” Auston says. It’s not like he’s taken a poll or anything, but he knows this team. He knows the fucking room, and he knows Freddie doesn’t have anything to worry about from within these walls or out on the ice. “And fuck everyone else.”

Freddie laughs this time, quiet and breathy, like the sound has been startled out of him. Auston leans in and knocks their helmets together, hooking his arm around Freddie’s shoulders for just a second, too close and yet not close enough. “Let’s get out there before coach bag skates us.”

Auston leads him out onto the ice, shoots a puck left glove side and laughs when Freddie snatches it out of the air.

“Weak,” he calls out, and doesn’t see the shot Mitch takes, sliding between his legs and into the back of the net.

Mitch whoops, skating past Auston for a high five, hands up in the air in victory. “Too slow, Fredex,” he yells in delight.

Auston doesn’t miss the slow smile that takes over Freddie’s face underneath his mask. Or the little reassuring tap Mitch gives his goalie pads when he skates past.

Auston’s gaze flits between the two of them, like he can’t decide who to focus on. So he turns away and concentrates on moving the puck between his blades and his stick instead.

*

Auston watches in disbelief as Mitch stands in the middle of a throng of reporters and casually reveals one of his wishes like it’s no big fucking deal.

“We’re a team,” he hears Mitch say, his voice carrying through the now-silent locker room. There’s got to be at least 40 people in here and every single one of them has their eyes on Mitch. “Someone took that away from one of us today. And that sucks, you know? But we’re a team. Now you can write about both of us. My man Freddie hates being the center of attention, you know? Me, I don’t mind so much.”

It’s chaos, after Freddie announces what everyone already knows, that he wished to do something memorable. It’s still weird as fuck hearing it out loud though. Hell, Auston doesn’t even know his sisters’ wishes. There’s a frantic scramble around him as the PR team abruptly shut down any further questions, like the media hasn’t already got the story of the freaking century here, and then it’s just the team left in the room.

Mitch looks ready for a fucking fight, which should be amusing except that Auston finds himself staring at Mitch instead, his mouth dry as Mitch walks over to Freddie and leans in close to say something. Something twists in his belly and he has to look away, otherwise he’s going to do something horribly embarrassing like walk over there and interrupt, like he’s too jealous to let Mitch and Freddie be something. Without him.

“Fucking hell,” he murmurs quietly.

Zach’s next to him and he raises his hand, nudging it against Auston’s in silent agreement.

*

Freddie turns into a bit of a recluse for a few weeks, so Auston spends a lot of time at Freddie’s place, arguing over what takeout to get and generally making himself at home. Freddie’s place is pretty nice, a bit sparse but Auston appreciates that. He has the necessities; a huge ass fridge full of beer and food, a big screen television on the wall and a dark brown leather sectional, big enough for both of them to stretch out.

“You want another?” Freddie asks lazily, empty beer in hand as they watch the highlights from the Pens-Lightning game.

“Sure,” Auston says around a yawn. He’s so comfortable that he could probably just sleep here, maybe. He idly watches Freddie get to his feet, yawn and stretch, and carefully looks away when he notices the fabric pull against Freddie’s biceps.

Freddie drops a beer into his waiting hand and Auston tips it towards the television. “Watch this,” he says and leans forward as Malkin spins around Hedman and buries the puck top shelf. “You think you could’ve saved it?”

He glances over to see Freddie staring intently at the replay. “Yeah,” he says finally, settling back against the sofa and nudging Auston’s foot where he’s laying down with his elbow.

Auston grins because Freddie always gives the same answer. “Sure,” he scoffs.

“Try it tomorrow at practice,” Freddie says easily, draping one arm across the back of the sofa as he smirks at Auston. He looks totally at ease. Confident.

Auston wants to climb him like a fucking tree.

“You won’t see it coming,” Auston promises instead.

Freddie just laughs. It’s annoying yet frustratingly sexy.

So Auston takes a sip of his beer and stares at the television, letting hockey push and pull and eventually fill all the corners of his mind.

*

Mitch and Freddie spend a lot of time together now, but Auston doesn’t care. It’s not like he has dibs on either of them or anything, that’d be childish and dumb and Auston doesn’t want to be either of those things so when he sees them making plans, heads bent towards each other, arranging to spend time together - time that does not include Auston - he grits his teeth and third wheels Willy and Zach’s dates.

It’s fine.

Whatever.

“Still super jealous of me and my best bro?” Mitch teases him when they finally spend an afternoon together, just the two of them at Mitch’s place. Not that Auston’s been counting how many days since they last hung out without anyone else around or whatever.

So it’s been six days or something. Auston doesn’t give a shit. Mitch is allowed to have other friends and Auston is not a jealous, possessive asshole.

“Fuck you,” is what he says, his tone easy because Mitch’s knee is pressed against his and Auston doesn’t care.

“So jealous,” Mitch fake whispers, laughing when Auston shoves him away. “Freddie likes me best now and you’re all pissed about it.”

Auston doesn’t even remember why he missed hanging out with Mitch. Those six Mitch-free days were fucking paradise.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Mitch says. He knocks his shoulder against Auston’s. “You could confess your wish and maybe Freddie will give you a shot.”

“A shot?” Auston hates the way his voice sounds all weird, like maybe he’s being strangled.

“At being his best bro again,” Mitch rolls his eyes. His mouth is doing that dumb thing where Mitch can’t seem to keep it closed and Auston kind of wants to bite his bottom lip and maybe press Mitch back against the couch and shove his thigh between Mitch’s legs and grind against him until they both come. “Hey, Earth to Matts? You alright, dude?”

Auston grabs his bottle of water from the table and takes a long drink because his throat is too fucking dry. “I’m good,” Auston maybe lies just a little when he drops the bottle and settles back against the cushions, crossing his ankles and nodding at the screen. “We playing or what?”

“Sure,” Mitch says, making himself comfortable against Auston’s side. “Gards and Mo are going down.”

Auston lifts his hand for a fistbump and grins when Mitch’s hand meets his.

*

So it’s not like he cares that Freddie and Mitch are joined at the fucking hip now or whatever. And he’s definitely not jealous. Except that he might be a little bit jealous and he doesn’t even know which one of them he’s jealous _of_. All he knows is that he’s used to getting all of Mitch’s attention and a lot of Freddie’s, and now some of that attention is on each other and not Auston and he fucking hates it.

So maybe he’s at Naz’s place, vaguely annoyed because they’re meant to be having a team bonding night of beer and Fortnite, and Freddie and Mitch have been missing for at least 20 minutes. Auston doesn’t care though. He’s hanging out with Patty and Mo and he’s only checked his watch a few times while he keeps half an eye out for them.

Vague annoyance turns into real annoyance after half an hour because they’re meant to be bonding as a team, not sneaking off to have awesome bro-on-bro time without Auston. He wanders through the house, casually sipping his beer and it doesn’t take long to find the only closed door. Three beers in, Auston doesn’t bother to knock and just opens the door, taking a step inside before he freezes.

Mitch sees him first, since he’s the one facing the door. He’s all red-faced, his hair a fucking mess and he looks as shocked as Auston feels because Freddie’s hands are very definitely under Mitch’s shirt and Mitch’s hands are in Freddie’s pants.

Freddie looks over his shoulder and Auston gets to see what Freddie looks like when he’s hot for someone, all flushed and sleepy-eyed, his mouth red from Mitch’s kisses.

Freddie’s been kissing Mitch. Mitch has been kissing Freddie. And now Auston knows what they both look like when they’re getting off and Auston is on the out-fucking-side.

“I uh,” he says stupidly. He needs to get out of here. “Shit. Sorry. I’ll just uh. See you later.”

“Matts-” Mitch says, sounding urgent but Auston needs to fucking leave already. The door closes between them, cutting Mitch off, giving Auston time to find Naz and say his goodbyes, ignore the looks Patty shoots him like he’s worried about Auston or something, and get out of there.

He fucking hauls ass out of there and back to his place. He’s barely got his front door closed before he’s got his hands in his pants, closing around his achingly hard dick and he can see them so fucking clearly in his mind. He comes after an embarrassingly few strokes and slides to the floor, feeling dazed and more than just a little ashamed.

When he’s caught his breath, he takes a shower and ignores his phone as it lights up with missed calls and ignored texts.

God, Freddie’s hands looked so big on Mitch’s body. He’d caught Mitch lowering his heels to the ground, like he’d been on tiptoe to reach Freddie, like he’d been desperate to kiss him.

Auston turns his phone off, crawls into bed and stares up at the ceiling.

He’s fucking jealous as hell and he doesn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

*

It’s not exactly a surprise when he arrives for practice in the morning and Mitch is there, practically bouncing on his heels, waiting for Auston to get out of his car. It’s more of a surprise to see Freddie next to him, leaning against the wall and watching Auston with his usual laser focus.

“If you’re trying to keep this on the down low, maybe don’t start randomly arriving to practice together,” Auston says mildly as he passes them.

“What?” Mitch frowns as he falls into step with Auston, Freddie trailing behind them but within earshot. “No, we drove separately. Matts, about last night-”

“It’s cool,” Auston lies his fucking ass off because he might be jealous but he’s not going to let Mitch or Freddie know that. He’d rather fucking die. “Although you’re seriously punching above your weight, Mitchy.”

“Hey,” Mitch protests.

“And you’ll never get a moments peace with this one,” Auston says over his shoulder to Freddie, who looks decidedly annoyed for some reason. “But good luck. If you’re keeping it a secret from the team, you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone.”

“What the fuck, Matthews,” Mitch says, and oh shit. That’s not his angry voice. Auston knows Mitch’s angry voice. Mitch isn’t angry. He’s hurt.

Auston stops dead in his tracks and grabs Mitch’s arm. He’s a jealous fucking idiot but that’s not Mitch’s fault. “Hey,” he says, softening his tone. “Sorry. I was just, you know. Freddie’s obviously the lucky one.”

Mitch huffs a little but he’s lost that tight look around his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Matts. It was one kiss. You don’t have to marry us off already.”

Something uncurls in his belly at the thought that he’d witnessed at least part of their first kiss. That he’d been involved somehow, no matter how inadvertently.

“Gonna be late, boys,” Mo says from behind them, startling all three of them. “Alright, Matts? Where did you get to last night?”

“I uh, didn’t feel too great,” Auston says lamely. “Wanted to sleep it off before tonight.”

Mo frowns and looks Auston up and down. “You look okay.”

“Must have been Naz’s shitty taste in beer,” Auston chirps weakly, but Mo grins at him anyway and they walk to the locker room together, leaving Mitch and Freddie to walk behind them.

Auston fights the urge to look over his shoulder and see what they’re doing without him but he desperately wants to.

His list of problems - challenges - is growing too fucking long.

*

“Tell me one of your wishes,” Mitch says, completely out of the blue.

He’s laying on Auston’s sofa, his bare feet hanging over one of the arms. Auston pauses mid-bite, his sandwich halfway to his mouth. “What? No.”

“C’mon dude,” Mitch says. He lifts his head and looks over at Auston, his gaze weirdly intense, although Auston supposes wish talk is still pretty fucking intimate. He knows one of Mitch’s wishes, but the whole team was there when Mitch announced it.

“You tell me yours first,” Auston says, keeping his tone even.

“You already know mine,” Mitch reminds him with an eye roll. “C’mon. Share one of the Auston Matthews mysteries with me.”

Auston puts his forgotten sandwich down. His stomach is churning at the thought of vocalising one of his wishes, not because he doesn’t want to tell Mitch but because two of his wishes are completely his. They’re a part of him and no one else, and only he can choose to share that or keep it entirely to himself.

“My parents,” he starts quietly, and then he has to clear his throat because his mouth is suddenly dry as fuck. He can see Mitch sitting up, eyes wide like he hadn’t really expected Auston to share with him. Auston’s heart starts pounding and he takes a few deep breaths to make sure he doesn’t totally embarrass himself when he speaks. “They uh, wished for acceptance.”

Mitch’s eyebrows shoot up.

Auston waits, but Mitch stays silent. Waiting.

“All of us,” Auston says, looking straight at Mitch. Practice is done for the day, they’ve already hit the gym and Mitch had wheedled his way into coming back to Auston’s for food and lazing around. Auston hadn’t really needed much convincing, since he kind of wants Mitch in his space most of the time, but for appearance’s sake he’d left Mitch hanging for five long minutes. But the truth is, and he suspects it’s more widely known than he’d like, but the truth is, he’s easy for Mitch. He’s so fucking easy that it’s embarrassing, and yet here he is. Making more room for Mitch to get comfortable in his life. “My mom wanted all of us to be accepted. She thought that maybe she’d like, make life harder for us or some bullshit, you know?”

Mitch frowns. “Your mom’s like, amazing, Matts. She’s awesome.”

Auston picks up his sandwich. “She is. She’s also Mexican, dude.” He takes a bite, just a little one, because his tummy still feels all weird and shit but also he’s really fucking hungry.

“It’s a good wish,” Mitch says after a few minutes have passed and Auston’s nearly cleared his plate. “Your mom’s really smart. Shame it skipped a generation with you, huh?”

“Fuck you,” Auston grins and makes a sudden dive for Mitch, both of them laughing as they wrestle. It doesn’t take Auston very long to get Mitch in an easy headlock, Mitch shoving at him to wriggle free.

“I wished to be a Leaf forever,” Mitch says after they’ve caught their breath.

Auston huffs out a laugh and reaches out to give Mitch another shove. “That’s like, the worst kept secret ever. Everyone already knows.”

Mitch turns towards him, his head resting against the sofa cushion. He looks more relaxed than Auston’s seen him recently. “They think they know,” Mitch murmurs. “Never actually told anyone before though.”

Auston thinks about that for a while. “Thanks for telling me,” he says eventually. He feels Mitch shrug next to him, like it’s no big deal but Auston’s not fooled for a second.

Later, when he’s alone in the apartment and Mitch has gone home, Auston takes a shower and spends more time thinking about Mitch sharing wish secrets with him than he probably should, considering he’s naked. Palming himself isn’t even a conscious decision, Auston reasons.

So he jerks off and thinks about Mitch. He thinks about crowding Mitch against the shower wall, naked and wet and willing. He thinks about Mitch telling him more secrets, like maybe what he wished for when he turned 18, maybe confessing it to Auston while he’s got Mitch pressed against the tiles, his voice all shaky and desperate because Auston’s touching him.

Auston comes into his own hand, his body taut and bowing as he shakes his way through his orgasm. At this point, he’s jerked off to thoughts of Mitch so often that he barely feels bad about it anymore.

It’s much later when he’s in bed, alone, and he’s thinking about Mitch and Freddie fucking that he feels guilty. He’s fucking obsessed. He thinks about Freddie curled around Mitch’s back, his big hands jerking Mitch off until Mitch is sobbing and a fucking mess all over himself. He thinks about Mitch on his knees, sucking Freddie off, making Freddie lose his fucking cool for once. He thinks about Mitch fucking into Freddie, leaving marks all over Freddie’s easily-bruised skin. He thinks about Freddie fucking Mitch against the wall, maybe a shower wall with tiles similar to Auston’s, both of them wet and slick and panting eagerly into each others’ mouths while Auston maybe gets to watch, getting himself off as they fuck in front of him, ignoring him as they chase their own orgasms together.

Auston comes all over his belly, shame heating his cheeks like it always, always does when he thinks about Freddie and Mitch together.

He’s obsessed and jealous and constantly fucking horny. It’s been weeks, maybe even months since he jerked off to anything other than Mitch or Freddie or MitchandFreddie.

He wants to feel bad about it. Fuck, he does feel bad about it. But he’s going to do it again tomorrow, maybe even twice, and the day after, and that is a big, big fucking problem.

*

It’s not like he can avoid his teammates, especially when they’re Mitch and Freddie, so Auston decides the only way to fix his problems is to spend more time with them until his brain gets the fucking message.

So he lazes around Freddie’s house and he invites Mitch over and sometimes, the three of them hang out together. Neither of them mention the whole kissing incident or whether they’ve kissed again or if they’re dating or fucking or whatever they’re doing. Or not doing. But Auston is obsessed so he watches the two of them together. There’s nothing overtly different about them, except that they constantly touch. Just little, casual touches that no one else would probably notice. But Auston’s hands ball into fists when Mitch’s hand lingers on Freddie’s back. And he has to force himself to look away when Freddie leans too close into Mitch’s space. He grits his teeth when Freddie’s fingertips slip under Mitch’s shirt, possibly accidentally but maybe not. And when Mitch practically plants himself in Freddie’s lap during a movie while they’re at Freddie’s house, just the three of them, Auston just gives up.

“What are you doing,” he says flatly. There’s a million seating options for Mitch that don’t include Freddie’s body.

“Uh,” Mitch looks up, seemingly confused and Auston can’t. He can’t fucking take this anymore.

“Are you fucking?” he asks, the words running together as he blurts them out.

“Well, that’s not any of your business,” Mitch begins, flushing but Auston barks out a short laugh that stops him from saying anything else.

“I know it’s not,” Auston says, and his heart is pounding. “I know it’s none of my business. Are you fucking?”

Freddie looks concerned and he’s got his hands on Mitch’s hips and Auston feels like he might explode. “Are you alright?”

“No I’m not fucking alright,” Auston groans and shoves a hand through his hair. Both of them are looking at him like he’s crazy and he thinks they might be right. “You kissed and I was there. I was there, you know?”

Mitch and Freddie share a look and Mitch finally gets off Freddie’s lap and they’re not touching anymore and Auston takes a steadying breath. “Auston,” Mitch says. Quietly. So fucking quietly.

“I wanted to be there,” Auston says. “I wanted to kiss you.”

“You wanted to - kiss Mitchy?” Freddie asks hesitantly, like he doesn’t understand what Auston is saying.

“No,” Auston says in frustration, and then watches as Mitch frowns and takes a step away from him and no, that’s not. That’s not what he mean. “Yes. I wanted to kiss Mitch. I always want to kiss Mitch. I want to kiss you too. All the fucking time.”

“Oh,” Mitch says softly like he finally gets it and Auston wonders if Mitch can explain it to him because Auston doesn’t understand anything. “You want to kiss me and Fred.”

“Yes,” Auston says in exasperation because that’s obvious, isn’t it? That’s always been obvious. Auston is shit at hiding anything from either of them.

“Okay,” Freddie says.

Auston blinks at both of them because they’re sharing a look, this dumb, happy look and then they’re both aiming it at him and Auston is so fucking lost. “Okay?” he echoes.

“We want to kiss you too,” Mitch explains patiently.

“You do,” Auston says dumbly.

Freddie starts laughing, this soft, happy noise that makes Auston’s chest hurt just a little. “You just lost all your chill, dude.”

“Shut up,” Auston mutters, because he’s still trying to process that Mitch and Freddie want to kiss him, possibly even as much as he wants to kiss them. “Do you want to kiss me or not?”

Freddie’s eyes light up like Auston’s just challenged him to a best of five shootout. “I guess,” he says easily, but Auston can see his hand curled up into a fist against his thigh, like he’s stopping himself from grabbing Auston and hauling him into his space.

Auston’s gaze narrows and he just throws himself at Freddie, trusts that he’ll be caught. Strong arms wrap around him and Auston grins for a split second before he’s pulling Freddie in for a kiss, all wet and as filthy as Auston can make it, his hands grabbing at Freddie’s shoulders and their chests pressed together.

When Freddie’s hands grip his waist, Auston pulls away, breathing hard because he thinks he might embarrass himself if he doesn’t take a fucking moment to chill the hell out.

Freddie’s hands are so fucking big.

“Hey, my turn.”

Auston huffs out a laugh because Mitch is pushing himself between Freddie and Auston, his legs straddling Freddie but this time Auston doesn’t mind because they’re both facing Auston, Freddie’s chin hooked over Mitch’s shoulder, and they’re both looking at him like they want to fucking devour him.

“Kiss me,” Mitch demands.

Breathless, Auston reaches up to run his thumb over Mitch’s lower lip, watching as Mitch’s gaze clouds over a little.

“Fuck this,” Mitch mutters and drags Auston in for a kiss. Where Freddie is solid and firm, Mitch is eager and desperate, Auston can feel him writhing around on Freddie’s thighs as they kiss. He’s vaguely aware that Freddie’s got his hands on Mitch again under his shirt. Auston doesn’t know who’s making Mitch moan as wantonly as he is, whether it’s him or Freddie or himandFreddie and Auston doesn’t care, he just wants to lick every fucking sound Mitch makes out of his mouth.

Auston’s head is fucking spinning by the time he realizes Freddie’s hands are back on him, Mitch sandwiched between them and grinding recklessly against Auston and on Freddie. “Yeah,” he mumbles into Mitch’s mouth as Freddie thumbs over his nipples and then he has to pull away from Mitch to kiss Freddie again.

*

Auston idly runs his hand down Mitch’s spine, grinning when Mitch mumbles something disagreeable under his breath and cuddles closer into Auston’s side. He passed out about ten minutes ago and Auston’s been sharing dumb little kisses with Freddie, their legs tangled and dicks finally soft because there’s absolutely no fucking way Auston could go again tonight. He’s young but he’s not super-fucking-human.

“Okay?” Freddie whispers between kisses, his lips ghosting over Auston’s shoulder.

“Somewhat decent,” Auston says because it makes Freddie laugh and press another kiss to his lips, his hand slipping down Auston’s chest to rest on his hip. There’s no way the three of them should be this comfortable in a bed but Freddie has the largest one he’s seen in his entire life.

“It’s been a long time since I was 18,” Freddie says, seemingly out of nowhere but Auston hums in agreement, happy to wait for Freddie to circle around to his point. “I was an angry kid. Not all the time, but when I lost a game, I’d just get so angry, you know?”

“Competitive,” Auston murmurs.

“No, it was something more than that,” Freddie says, squeezing Auston’s hip. “It used to scare me. So when I turned 18, I made a wish for patience. I thought it would make me less angry.”

Auston turns his head to look at Freddie, and then he can’t stop himself from kissing him all slow and easy. “You’re not angry now,” he points out.

“Yeah,” Freddie says and kisses Auston quick and fast, pulling back before Auston’s ready for him to. “But I think maybe it made me good at waiting, too.”

Mitch stirs next to him and Auston tugs him a little closer, his hand resting on Mitch’s ass possessively. “Yeah?”

“I think maybe I’ve been waiting for this,” Freddie whispers into Auston’s shoulder, so quiet that Auston can only just catch the words. “For you both.”

“That’s the cheesiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Auston says unsteadily. “You fucking dork.”

“You freaked out because you wanted to fuck two of your teammates,” Freddie shoots back with an easy grin.

Auston tilts his head for another kiss. “I wished for something real,” he says, his lips still pressed against Freddie’s. “Things were crazy, going first overall and coming here. The articles they wrote were insane. I wanted something real, something I could trust, you know?”

“That’s a shame because I’m only here to fuck a first overall,” Mitch mumbles into Auston’s neck. “Bit of a fucking letdown, if you ask me. I bet Davo is bett-”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Auston says. Then he adds; “Don’t even think about fucking McDavid.”

“Not my type,” Mitch says, snuggling a little closer into Auston’s side, his hand sliding over Auston’s belly and reaching for Freddie. “I wished for someone who’d love me as much as I’d love them,” he says, eyes still shut and Auston thinks it might be deliberate. He strokes his hand over Mitch’s ass lightly and feels Mitch’s dick stir a little where it’s nestled against his leg. “Like, I’m obsessive, right?”

“You have a lot of love,” Freddie says softly and Auston rolls his eyes as Mitch lifts his head and blows Freddie a kiss.

“So much,” Mitch agrees, leaning up on his elbow so he can see the both of them. “Maybe more than most people. Maybe enough for two people.”

“Oh my god,” Auston groans and turns to Freddie. “He’s your fucking responsibility. You kissed him first.”

“No way, he’s your fucking soulmate,” Freddie says.

“Our soulmate,” Auston corrects.

“You’re both dicks,” Mitch says, sounding way too happy because Auston’s got his hand between Mitch’s legs, stroking him lazily like neither of them are too sure whether he can go again but they’re willing to find out and Freddie is pressed up against Auston, one hand in Mitch’s hair and tugging just enough to make Mitch’s mouth go slack and his other hand is on Auston’s thigh, his fingers splayed wide enough to almost touch Auston’s dick; a tease that Auston wants to lean into so badly he can taste it.

“Fred,” he murmurs.

“Shh,” Freddie tells him and slides his hand up to cup Auston’s half-hard dick. “We’ve got you. We’ve both got you.”


End file.
